Prop 8 and DoMA: Defining Marriage Isn't the Issue

My colleague at LA Progressive, Carl Matthes, makes a great point. While all of these people are bandying about trying to determine what the definition of marriage should be, they really should look at the definition of another word -- equality.

After the election, a close liberal friend of mine, who happens to be Jewish, said that she and her husband went to the dictionary to check the definition of the word “marriage” to help guide their vote on Prop 8. They wanted clarification on how marriage is defined. I assume they felt that by defining marriage clearly, this would give them direction for granting equal rights to gay men and lesbians.

Hmmm?!

She said her dictionary defined marriage as a union between a man and a woman. (As does my older Webster’s dictionary.) She then asked, “I wonder how your Oxford English Dictionary (OED) defines marriage?” So, for those who like to swallow their sense of equality with a big dose of dictionary, I submit the definition of “marriage” from volume IX of the XX volume OED which reads, “The condition of being a husband or wife; the relation between married persons; spousehood, wedlock.” Spousehood? And, no mention of man or woman. Those English must have known something which must have gotten lost in translation on the trip across the Atlantic. And, for those who like to play word games, notice the word “or” between husband or wife and not the word “and.” Oh, there could be two wives? Two husbands? A female as husband or a male as wife? My mind is reeling with possibilities.

I then thought that a better place to look in the dictionary for guidance on how to vote on same-sex marriage would be the word “equal.” My OED says that equal means, “Identical in amount; neither less nor greater…having the same measure, number, value, intensity, etc.” So, in the context of constitutional equality, I would expect to see next to the definition of equality a picture of Martin Luther King or Mahatma Gandhi. Maybe in my friend’s dictionary there would be a picture of Strom Thurmond or Rush Limbaugh.

Not a lot of wiggle room with the word “equal.”

For years, people have told me that I need to compromise on the matter of the state permitting legal marriage for the GLBT community. Accept second-class citizenship in the form of civil union, they say -- it's good enough. Many gay and lesbian people do accept the diminishment meekly in the interest of peace. Good on them. Civil union is not equal, so it cannot be good enough. Ever. Grown-up people can and should compromise whenever possible, and on any other issue, I certainly am willing to make allowances or take less than I truly require or want. But not when it comes to equality: As the Supreme Court ruled a half-century ago, separate but equal isn't equal. We are either equal or we are not. This nation claims to offer equality under secular law for all. Therefore, equality, in a legal or non-theocratic sense, cannot be compromised.

Look it up:

equality (noun) - i kwóllətee, ee kwóllətee

equal (noun) - i kwól, ee kwól

MSN Encarta:

state of being equal: rights, treatment, quantity, or value equal to all others in a specific group
* full equality under the law

Merriam-Webster:

the quality or state of being equal (of the same measure, quantity, amount, or number as another; identical in mathematical value or logical denotation; equivalent - like in quality, nature, or status c: like for each member of a group, class, or society)
* provide equal employment opportunities>

Merriam-Webster Law Dictionary:

the quality or state of being equal: as 1. : sameness or equivalence in number, quantity, or measure 2.: likeness or sameness in quality, power, status, or degree

Dictionary.com:

the state or quality of being equal; correspondence in quantity, degree, value, rank, or ability; equal - as great as; the same as (often fol. by to or with); like or alike in quantity, degree, value, etc.; of the same rank, ability, merit, etc.; evenly proportioned or balanced; uniform in operation or effect; adequate or sufficient in quantity or degree; having adequate powers, ability, or means; impartial or equitable

American Heritage Dictionary:

The state or quality of being equal

WordNet:

the quality of being the same in quantity or measure or value or status

Unless one wants a theocracy, nope, you won't find wiggle room here. Equal is equal, period. The United States and all but two states in the union do not provide equality for all. I don't care how religious one claims to be -- no decent person should accept inequality. Frankly, I don't see how they could. And if the US is supposedly the greatest, fairest nation on the planet, it should act like it and acknowledge the full equality of all its citizens.

We Don't Need No Re Run

The weird slo-mo rerun of Diana’s demise is begun. From this, the anniversary of her birth, until the commemoration of her death, the self-coronated Queen of Hearts will be killed a thousand times.
For now, expect enough weepy telemovies to furnish the needs of an above-average menopause.
For fans, such as I, of the Made for TV genre, great news is at hand. The Murder of Princess Diana is almost in the can. Made by the former partners of Working Title films, this screen excellence will no doubt have the American upscale, homosexual aesthetic of great telemovies like Mommie Dearest. While retaining the British upscale, homosexual aesthetic of great rom-coms like Four Weddings and a Funeral.
For those who prefer their People’s Princess with a side order of counterfeit integrity, the BBC will doubtless offer a dozen documentaries. These will range in matter from sophisticated conspiracy theory to cheesy cultural studies assay.
Speaking of the latter, let us not underestimate exactly how much poop newspapers are currently honing for Op Ed. I imagine cleverness written by academics called things like Diana: Femininity, Image and Resonance will be upchucked like so many cosmopolitan cocktails in coming weeks.
And, of course, the chic gossip Tina Brown is at it adding her expensive whiff to the conversation. Former VF editor TB has just unleashed The Diana Chronicles.
Of course, it all started hours ago at Wembley Arena. Along with many television viewers, I can barely wait for tonight to savour this wonderfully inappropriate spectacle.
From a dash to you tube to a Google news search, it seems as though this is even better than we’d hoped. Duran Duran performed, as expected. As did seedy troll Tom Jones. But, in between the singing of blue silver and the hurling of underpants, DENNIS HOPPER appeared.
Doubtless, the former HRH was a very great fan of Easy Rider and expressionist painting and would often ask Dodi to don an oxygen mask while shrieking, “Baby wants to f*ck! Baby wants to f*ck Blue Velvet!”.
I mean, really. What were Harry and William thinking?
Since her first appearance as a blush and unspoiled hottie in 1980, Diana always provided the stuff of well-paced screenplay. Just as she threatened to become unspeakably dull (as, between you and I, she probably was) another plot point was written. Despair, redemption and bouts of mild bulimia always emerged as needed.
Again, in an act of consummate script writing, Diana has left just enough time between her 46th birthday and the tenth anniversary of her glamorous death to allow media providers to spend themselves silly.
Tissues at the ready. It will end, gentle reader, on August 31.

Vonnegut Dead at 84: You're Free, Uncle Kurt

From the NY Times:

Kurt Vonnegut, whose dark comic talent and urgent moral vision in novels like "Slaughterhouse-Five," "Cat's Cradle" and "God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater" caught the temper of his times and the imagination of a generation, died last night in New York. He was 84 and had homes in New York and in Sagaponack on Long Island.

His death was reported by Morgan Entrekin, a longtime family friend, who said Vonnegut suffered brain injuries as a result of a fall several weeks ago.

Vonnegut wrote plays, essays and short fiction. But it was his novels that became classics of the American counterculture, making him a literary idol, particularly to students in the 1960s and '70s. Dog-eared paperback copies of his books could be found in the back pockets of blue jeans and in dorm rooms on campuses throughout the United States.

Like Mark Twain, Vonnegut used humor to tackle the basic questions of human existence: Why are we in this world? Is there a presiding figure to make sense of all this, a god who in the end, despite making people suffer, wishes them well?

He also shared with Twain a profound pessimism. "Mark Twain," Vonnegut wrote in his 1991 book, "Fates Worse Than Death: An Autobiographical Collage," "finally stopped laughing at his own agony and that of those around him. He denounced life on this planet as a crock. He died."

---

The conclusions you shared in A Man Without a Country scared the hell out of me.

I had taken a break from you after spending a good two decades-plus immersed in your words and, in blazing my own literary and activist trail, surveying, researching, exposing and trying to repair a broken world. Needed to expand my worldview and dive into new pools and explore other vistas. Just two months ago, I saw the book in a cafe/bookstore -- ironically your last book, it turned out, heh -- and was compelled to purchase it. Immediately read it cover to cover. And it terrified me.

Listen: At 82, the age you were during the writing, you concluded that we are beyond hope. We humans, consumed with greed and selfishness and a reckless disregard for other humans, have scarred the planet and the communal soul. The damage appears, no, is irrevocable, you wrote. So it goes.

Having those sentiments come from you, a scribe I have long revered and one in some sense I know intimately, did not surprise. What was stunning was that these conclusions are the very ones that have kept this progressive scribe mired in deep depression for nearly four years (and probably longer). I now am a relatively young, but regretfully old, 45. Imagine that.

So it goes.

Keeping on with writing and do-gooding and disseminating ideas, however hopeless the endeavor. Beats joining the Church of the Utterly Indifferent. Will try harder to savor the nice moments along the way; I'm toasting you right now with ice-cold southern sweet tea, and it is really nice. Another blessing: The libation serves as a bracing distraction from the searing pain of immeasurable loss. Call it liquid oxycontin. Yeah, sipping this tea is awfully nice.

And perhaps all hope is not lost. After all, something led me to pick up A Man Without a Country; the book's advice for coping with life in the midst of the world's insanity -- and perhaps the lesser craziness that is my own -- will be invaluable if I must endure another four decades.

Thanks for the long-ago slap in the face, that whap! of cold, hard truth. For the laughs. For Kilgore Trout. For catching Al Stewart's eye and making me take Twain more seriously.

Color me devastated and numb, but grateful and glad you are free of this hellhole.

And forgive me if, just for today, I ditch one piece of the wisdom you shared with a disillusioned and lonely girl via handwritten letter 35 years ago. OK, two: I used a semicolon. I have my reasons.


Love,
An 84-year-old man in the
body of a middle-aged woman

P.S. Damn you, you've left me with a question and now you must know the answer: Is death really the logical solution to any problem? Since neither you nor the late Samuel Clemons are here, I'll have to tackle that on my own. To wit: Some deaths -- for example, those of a baby, a newlywed, a just-certified doctor or Dana Reeve -- defy logic. Logical and inevitable are not synonyms. Sometimes, however, the two intersect. Goodbye, Blue Monday!

---

The following poem appears at the end of Kurt Vonnegut Jr.'s final book:

When the last living thing

has died on account of us,

how poetical it would be

if Earth could say,

in a voice floating up

perhaps

from the floor

of the Grand Canyon,

"It is done."

People did not like it here.